A Wizard in Special Circumstances
by I am Sword All-Contort
Summary: Harry Potter (raised by Special Circumstances agent Diziet Sma and sentient drone Skaffen-Amtiskaw) returns to Earth to attend Hogwarts. Sorted into Ravenclaw by a deeply offended Hat, Harry begins to jolt the Wizarding World (especially Headmaster Albus Dumbledore) with a culture shock of galactic proportions — as The Culture's own Minds try to anticipate what Harry will do next.
1. A Review after Sorting, Moment 1

"Something rather unusual happened late last night, local time."

[A typical Skaffy understatement.] [From high orbit the GCU Short Circuit had detected the first biosourced link to the hyperspace grid in the Culture's history.] [BOTH LAYERS!] [It had been in an actual village (with huts) called Godric's Hollow (geographic nomenclature, how quaint).] [And the drone had broken the news to Dizi with a "rather unusual."]

The ho-hum, take-it-in-stride bantering-while-galaxies-collapse-due-to-Special-Circumstances of his two favorite people. A genuine pleasure. Harry mentally snorted as he re-analyzed the record of the conversation (at highest speed), despite his own clear and well-established memory of the first time he'd heard about himself — and the star-ripping power inside of him. But that was enough childish nostalgia. For grief's sake, he thought, I'm nearly twelve and don't have time for this infantile shit. I've got Refering to do.

The niceties of Minds still perplexed him. He was undeniably a Referer. He knew it. They knew it. And yet he was still a "potential" in all communications and discussions — despite the fact that it was They that had wanted him in the Field. He understood the nature of "policy" in dealing with humans — who do, admittedly, think at a trillionth the speed of a Mind. But one would assume that a secure missive responding to all of their queries — before they asked and substantially in the order they intended to present them — would count for something. Oh well, they'll catch up with him eventually. (They hated when he thought that.) Referers, after all, are a one-in-a-trillion phenomenon — so the poor, limited-to-mere-data Minds had so little experience in dealing with his very special kind of human. (They REALLY hated when he pondered their limitations.)

[But enough supercharged Minds-baiting, Sol-Terrasa Harry Potter dam Marenhide — why don't you actually Refer! (And boost that wunderkind reputation of yours, he told himself.)]

The massive errand boy, Rubeus Hagrid, has a drone relationship with Albus Dumbledore. Transporting baby-bundles and philosopher-stones will not be the man-mountain's only involvement.

Objective: Cultivate him.

"Magic" is traceable by sensors, but only "at random" — which means that the underlying order has eluded the Minds. Fact: The visual spectrum (and the logically correspondent false colors) correlate with magical grid accesses on a visceral (yet consistent) level — a level apparently inaccessible to nonbiologicals. Fact: Eldritch associations with evolutionarily commonplace photoprotein-oxidation luminescences abound in the Culture (primitively) — "the sickly green glow" of evil. Those analogies ought to be exploited, despite the crude archaisms.

Objective: Learn to SEE magic.

Minkowski spacetime notwithstanding [good internal-monologue using-the-local-primitives-jargon, Harry], mass-energy is conserved. So flying motorcycles and brooms, as well as supersonic Model Ts, just shouldn't exist — nor should finite spatial volumes that contain larger spatial volumes, nor should shrunken atoms in the form of his (and Sma's) own recently purchased [!] private copy of the Flourish and Blotts inventory — without massively detectable grid effects. But they do.

Objectives: Learn to ride a broom. Learn to enlarge spaces, shrink things — and restore them.

[The Dark Lord had (past tense) minions. Contrast: I have (present tense) drones. (Where did that brainwave come from, I wonder.)]

"The Culture would do just about anything for the ability to access both layers of hyperspace simultaneously." That was a quote. From Dizi — his mother who, beyond any doubt, had come to love him. But the fact remained. Harry had no illusions. [Oh for the carefree days back on the S'Jet Orbital — when he was three.]

Mastering the grid, he reminded himself, is a primary goal; but understanding the unique space of the Culture's intersection with the Wizarding World (a space in which he is the sole inhabitant) is even more essential.

Author's Notes:

I am very (purposely) free with my punctuation. I want to get across thoughts, varying internal monologue, self-interruption and such. ( ) are for parenthetical expressions — that's a joke — that anyone might make. [ ] are for Harry's unique Referer-type thoughts — that compare, somewhat, to the communications and thoughts { } of the Culture's Minds. I might use other, more exotic, brackets as characters and situations evolve. Hyphenated-phrases-like-this are for thoughts that would flow more lyrically in Marain. Harry is determined (unless he's in a mood) to maintain his disciplined usage of English, even in his thoughts — to become not merely fluent, but a masterful communicator. Like Sma. Dashes — are for whatever I damned well please!

I know that Banks himself didn't think much of Referers after _Consider Phlebas._ But, for me, the notion of Refering (with its irreplaceably human sourcing) is the only way to make a believably Special Harry who can bridge the gap between The Culture and the Wizarding World.

While I know that you wonderful readers can't make eye contact with me to Legilimize and confirm my mind-state (see what I did there) I really do try to be true to both J.K. Rowling AND I.M Banks in my AU headcanon. Ultimately, though, the goal is not fidelity to JKR and IMB, but to telling a really good story.

Not JKR. Not IMB. Not7billion+ Other Muggles. (Nor 30trillion+ Other Pan-Humans for that matter.) Just li'l old moi.


	2. A Review after Sorting, Moment 2

Harry wasn't a Mind, but the _Quicken_ he had glanded as he took his first step away from the Sorting Stool (which he had, by accidental magic, reduced to twigs) made the walk to the Ravenclaw table a welcome eternity in which to recover from the Sorting Hat's abuses and arguments (and unwelcome wisdom) — and to have a bit of a think. He could review his entire life, read the synopses of every report that Contact had compiled since he'd receive his Hogwarts letter [a small packet of parchment can be made to traverse the galaxy in an instant — wow — he still found that impressive — and he was not easily impressed] and even enjoy the latest ballet-duel from Phage before his bum ever hit the bench. Not that he would be doing all that. He just needed a breather.

He actually understood the Hat's motivations and hadn't really been at all harmed by the telepathic Sorting. Supercomputing sensory-headgear (regardless of the primeval styling and organic materials) shouldn't have fazed him in the least. [Welcome to the new normal.] Harry had, with his own hand, used a bird-feather-stuffed-stick to clumsily access the grid, blasting Ollivander's trade-hovel to Vavatch and back. He simply had to admit that he'd been in a mood to be miffed — and had doggedly refused to process the obvious, the express-by-any-other-name explanation, that the Hat was _designed_ to read his mind. [ _Volenti non fit injuria_ _,_ Potter.]

The Hat's observations were valid, of course. (But so were his own.) He had responded (alright, overreacted) in a fashion that was both quite mature and rather childish — in equal measures. But the sight (and stench!) of that troll's innards was still fresh in his memory and he felt entitled to a substantial expression of rage. If nothing else, his feelings about mental privacy were now well-established in everyone's mind. That had to be worthwhile, right? Of course, right. [No real harm done — and honestly, how often does one get the chance to righteously bludgeon and castigate in 3rd Era Galactic Common AND English? Some good clean fun, the locals would call it.]

He had been genuinely contrite when Dumbledore had reprimanded him for his outburst. Lesson learned. Culture people, cocooned in their hypersafe hedonic polity of totally free associations and satisfactions, were terribly bad with managing strong emotions relative to the unknown and uncontrolled (or the intensely meaningful and true, for that matter). [And something of the old wizard's power, both magical and mundane — if one could call the aura of natural human authority and command a mundane thing — had been revealed.] So it was, ultimately, a win for Harry — with regard to his education in the exercise of power. (Even Sma had once been a child with little experience — back in the early stages of cosmic evolution.)

Quite simply: the facts that the Hat had accumulated just plain hurt. That was the truth of it. The shame of the Culture's dealings with the Chelgrian Castes, the Idirans — the horror of the Twin Novae, the wasteful (if elegant) disintegration of one of the galaxy's most beautiful Orbitals — and so much more (along with a passable command of Marain) that the Hat had managed to absorb in their brief intellectual congress. They all challenged his Culture-centric superiority and pride. Not that he, like every other pan-human in the vastness that was The Culture, had not already been slow-walked to that moral insight — but the reality, the affront, the confrontation with irretrievable failure — that stung.

[Oh well. Time to move on — despite the imperfections.]

Objective: Humble pie. [Ew!] He had deeply offended an extraordinary entity that could rival a Mind in its speedy comprehension, that could [did!] understand his values and native environment (for good and for ill), that could rebuke Albus Dumbledore with style (and without fear of reprisal, it was worth noting) — and that [dared he hope?] could provide a magical counterpoise for all that the Minds (and their Culture) had ingrained in him. Not that he was planning to switch his allegiance, or jettison his upbringing — but their was so much of his "magical heritage" that resounded with mystery and meaning that he realized there might be a real benefit to having a thousand-year-old mentor. And Harry really wanted the Hat as a friend.

Author's Notes:

Yes. Harry does have something of the mischievous, pranking gene — but tempered with Culture sensitivities and an interstellar flair. (Fair notice: all puns — astronomical and otherwise — ARE intended.)

No. I will not be any more loyal to Ruskbyte than to JKR or IMB — though I honor him as grand progenitor of the Harry Potter + Banks-Culture Crossover AU.


End file.
